“You think we wouldn’t notice,” I say. “That you could play double agent without someone catching it? Even if you stumbled onto something real, what made you think you had the authority to act alone?”
“I didn’t,” he gasps. “I swear. I thought that was why it was there. For me to find. I thought your dad—or you—were passing something to me quietly. Testing me. That’s what the memo said.”
I study him. Too afraid to be convincing. Too confused to be confident.
“A great story,” I say. “It would make a hell of a spy movie. But this is real life, Tripp. And I don’t believe you.”
“I swear,” he whines.
Rhodes steps in, voice sharp. “So we slipped you a secret memo and told you to ‘hang out’ with our competition on the shipping routes,” Rhodes says, putting the words “hang out” in air quotes.
“That’s what you’re saying?” Rhodes asks.
Tripp’s mouth opens, closes. “I don’t know. Yes. That’s what I’m saying. I thought I was meant to find it.”
“Where is this memo?” I ask.
“It said to destroy it,” he says quickly. “So I did. I burned it.”
“Bullshit,” Rhodes snaps. “He’s playing us.”
The anger in my chest stays contained. Fool or pawn, it doesn’t matter. He crossed a line.
For a moment, Coco flickers through my mind. Underground. Waiting. Every minute I spend here tightens the clock, creating more questions, not answers.
I straighten. “Beau. Leave him here. We’re done for now.”
Beau steps forward. Tripp flinches.
“I want answers,” I add. “And I want them clean. I’ll dig into this memo myself.”
Beau nods.
I turn to Rhodes, catching the thoughtful edge in his expression.
“Let’s go,” I say, turning away from Tripp. Rhodes follows me out of the room. As the door shuts behind us, I hear Tripp muttering something under his breath, a last attempt at a defense, a plea.
Rhodes waits until we’re a few steps away, then speaks up, his voice low. “You can’t be buying this?”
“It’s so far-fetched, I have to believe there might be something to it. Obviously, we don’t issue directives like that, and we didn’t do it, but,” I say, my jaw tight. “But either he’s incompetent or deliberately misleading. Either way, I want to get to the bottom of it.”
Rhodes nods thoughtfully. His focus drifts as he considers my words. “Interesting, though, isn’t it?” Rhodes asks, almost to himself. “If it is true, someone picked the right dumbass to find it.”
I don’t answer, but I can feel the weight of his words sinking in. Tripp might be a fool, but if what he is saying is true, someone else’s hand is guiding him. And until I find out who, I’m not letting my guard down.
"For now, he lives. I want to get to the bottom of this."
"Okay. Where do you want to keep him? I can have Beau set him up."
"He can stay here. Get someone to stand guard. I'll be staying down in the bunker. I don't have time to babysit him, too. You're the lead on this."
"Roger, brother. I’ll keep digging. I know you have your hands full, so I’ll report to Vin. We will get to the bottom of this.”
I pull my phone from my pocket as I head for the car and type a quick message to Vin.
Need to update you on Tripp. We also need to talk about the Boudreauxs.
The response comes almost immediately.
